


You're a Mean One, Miss Babcock

by kate811



Category: The Nanny
Genre: Christmas, F/M, The Grinch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate811/pseuds/kate811
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CC, Niles, and the lovable Dr. Seuss Christmas character throughout the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're a Mean One, Miss Babcock

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 Christmas Calendar! Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful holiday!

_Christmas Eve, 1987_

She attempts sneaking out the back door, but that lousy, no-good butler has once again neglected his duties, leaving the walkway covered with at least a foot of snow. Having no choice, CC turns on her heels and walks to the living room, finding the Sheffield family curled up on the couch together watching TV. The dimmed lights and crackling fire create an intimate family setting, and CC feels like a complete outsider intruding on the scene.

She tries to be as quiet as possible, both to avoid interrupting the family and to get out without being suckered into staying and partaking in the Christmas festivities. It’s not that she hates Christmas, but the family togetherness is a foreign concept to her, and she’d rather not deal with it. Plus, there’s a bottle of bourbon at home with her name on it.

Her heels click and echo on the marble floors, betraying her.

“CC, what are you doing? You’re not thinking of leaving are you?” Sara asks as she rocks baby Grace in her arms.

“Actually, yes, I should be getting home. Merry Christmas, everyone!” She tries to sound regretful as she heads to the door. Really, she tries.

“Nonsense,” Maxwell waves nonchalantly, “CC, it’s a blizzard out there! You’ll stay the night. Niles has already made up a room for you.”

She makes a mental note to check the bed for spiders or toads.

“I don’t want to impose,” she tries one more time. 

“Sit down, CC,” Sara demands. “Niles is bringing in eggnog.”

She makes a mental note to sniff her eggnog for expired ingredients.

“So, what are we watching?” CC asks as she takes a seat in the armchair, knowing it’s useless to try to argue Sara into letting her leave.

“The Grinch!” The two older Sheffield children cheer.

“What’s that?” CC wrinkles her nose.

“You’ve never seen The Grinch?” Maggie asks shyly.

CC shrugs, not wanting to explain to the child that Babcocks weren’t really about family gatherings and Christmas movies and snuggling on the couch by a fire and all that crap. She watches as an ugly, cartoon, green creature complains about the holiday and plots to steal Christmas as a song begins:

 _You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch,_  
You really are a heel!  
You're as cuddly as a cactus,  
You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch.

_You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel!_

“Why didn’t anyone tell me we were watching Babcock Family home movies? I’d have popped some popcorn!” Niles asks as he saunters into the room and hands her a glass of eggnog.

The Sheffields watch in horror as CC throws the eggnog in Niles’ face.

She realizes maybe the Grinch is onto something. Christmas sucks.

 

_December, 1989_

As a Christmas present to the company and the staff, Maxwell decides to get an intercom system installed in the mansion. Now that they’re a moderately successful production company, they deserve to work in an environment that appears moderately successful, and intercoms are apparently the way to do just that. CC suggests they get a real office, but Maxwell insists on working from home.

A week into it, and CC realizes the present really only benefits one member of the Sheffield household: Niles. He eavesdrops on meetings with famous actors, he listens in on CC and Maxwell’s arguments, and he uses it as another means by which to toss insults at her.

She’s working alone in the office, the Sheffields having set off to be with Sara’s parents for the holidays, when Niles starts in over the intercom:

 _“You're a foul one, Miss Babcock._  
You're a nasty wasty skunk!  
Your heart is full of unwashed socks,  
Your soul is full of gunk, Miss Babcock.”  


“Speaking of unwashed socks, don’t you have rich people’s laundry to be doing?” She asks, feigning a tone of boredom. 

Niles pays no attention to her, continuing his little song, “The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote—” 

“Niles, I swear to God, if you don’t shut up…” she starts.

 _“_ Stink!”

 “Niles.”

“Stank!”

“Niles!”

“Stunk!”

“NILES!”

For Christmas, she gets Maxwell a replacement intercom system, after she beats the original beyond repair with a Tony award.

 

_Christmas, 1995_

“Oh, daylight come and me wan’ go home,” Niles deadpans as they gaze at one another in shock.

“What the hell are you doing here? Did you follow me?” She asks.

“Yes, Miss Babcock. On the only vacation I’ve had in the last 20 years, I decided to punish myself by going to the same resort as you,” he replies sarcastically. “What are you even doing here? Aren’t you afraid of whale hunters seeing you on the beach?”

She rolls her eyes and turns away, intending to get as far away from him as humanly possible, when she feels his hand on her elbow.

“Babcock, wait.”

She turns around and raises an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe we could…hang out for a little? In the spirit of Christmas and all that crap?”

“What?” She furrows her brow. “Why would you want to do that? It’s Christmas, and we hate each other.”

“Exactly,” Niles explains. “It’s Christmas. And you’re here and I’m here, and well, as nice as this place is, we’re still alone on Christmas. We shouldn’t be alone on Christmas.”

“You didn’t look too alone when you were dancing with every bimbo this side of the equator,” she retorts, cursing the note of jealousy in her voice.

Niles smirks. “True, but the only bimbo I’d want to spend Christmas with is you, Babs.”

“That was almost sweet, Niles,” she bites back a grin as he leads her to the bar, ordering them each a piña colada.

“Cheers,” she replies, surprised that she’s actually enjoying her time with him.

They sit in comfortable silencing, listening to the band play Christmas carols. Suddenly, Niles gets up and goes over to the band, whispering something to the lead singer. He makes his way back to her, a shit-eating grin plastered to his face.

“What did you do?” She asks suspiciously.

“May I have this dance, Miss Babcock?” He holds out his hand.

She can’t place the tune at first, unaccustomed to the calypso style, when the singer starts:

_“You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch._  
You have termites in your smile!  
You have all the tender sweetness  
Of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch.

_Given the choice between the two of you  
I'd take the seasick crocodile!”_

In spite of herself, she laughs. “You’re such an idiot, Niles.”

He looks at her hopefully, his hand still outstretched for her to take.

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly and places her hand in his, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor where they sway in time with the music.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Babcock,” he murmurs in her ear.

She smiles and settles in closer so they’re dancing cheek to cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Niles.”

 

_First Night of Hanukkah, 1998_

She’s exhausted. Every inch of her body aches from being cramped in the backseat of Maxwell’s car for 8 hours, and no matter what, she can’t seem to get warm. She wishes she had Maxwell drop her off at her apartment, but the thought of being alone after their ordeal sends another shiver through her body.

She trudges through the back door of the Sheffield mansion, knowing that the living room is probably a mess of Fines and Sheffields embracing and counting their blessings. This way, she can slip upstairs quietly to a guest room.

She doesn’t count on Niles sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of hot cocoa in his hands.

“Hello, hello,” she greets him quietly.

“Miss Babcock,” he says her name like a prayer, and if she weren’t so tired she’d look into it, “you’re back.”

“I am.”

“And you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” she answers, clearing her throat to get rid of the hoarseness from the cold and exhaustion.

“Well, I should think so. Weren’t you in your natural element?” Niles asks.

“Why? Because my heart is a block of ice?” She snaps tiredly.

Niles’ eyes widen and he holds up his hands in surrender. “No, I was going to say something about you being the Abominable Snowman.”

“Oh.”

He eyes her inquiringly. “I’ll ask again. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she repeats, not wanting to get into it with him. Not wanting to think about how she almost died tonight and how all she could think about was experiencing his touch and wondering if he was worried about her like she’s some stupid teenager with a crush.

He looks at her again, not fooled for a moment.

“Niles, really, I’m okay. I’m just tired and cold and I’d love nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for the next 24 hours,” she rubs her eyes and fights back a yawn.

“Okay,” Niles says, his voice sounding like he’s still not convinced.

She shoves her hands into her pockets, trying to keep them warm, when she feels something. She pulls out his Lemon Pledge-scented handkerchief. For the first time since before the car crash, a smile lights up her face.

“I guess you’ll be wanting this back?” She asks, dangling the handkerchief in front of her.

“You keep it,” he laughs, shaking his head.

“Thanks. Good night, Niles,” she turns and heads for the stairs.

“Wait!” Niles calls, getting up from the table. “I have something for you! I know it’s not Christmas yet, but after what you’ve been through today, I thought you could use it,” he says it almost shyly.

It’s then that she notices the wrapped rectangular box on the table.

“What? Did you soak your boxers in Pine-Sol for me to wear when I miss you?”

“You wish,” Niles smirks, picking up the box and handing it to her.

She looks at him curiously. They’ve never exchanged presents before. She reaches for the tag and laughs as she reads it:

 

            _Babcock –_

_I wouldn’t touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole! Merry Christmas._

_\-- Niles_

She excitedly tears into the wrapping paper and laughs again as she sees it’s a VHS of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. It means more to her than diamonds or designer shoes or furs.

“Thank you, Niles,” she smiles gratefully. “But I think ‘thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole’ is overselling yourself. If you’re gonna lie about size, at least make it realistic.” 

“Witch,” he chuckles as she turns away to head back up the stairs.

A hand grabs her arm and before she realizes it she’s tugged into his arms in a hug. 

“Niles?” she asks.

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Miss Babcock,” he whispers into her hair, and the cold she’s felt down to her bones instantly melts away.

“Me, too. Niles—” she starts, but is interrupted by Maxwell on the intercom asking for champagne to celebrate arriving home safely.

Niles lets go. “You should get some sleep. Good night, Miss Babcock.”

He’s gone in an instant. She looks down at the video in her hands and smiles. It’s the merriest Christmas she’s had in a long time.

_Christmas Eve, 2000_

She laughs as her daughter’s chubby hands reach for her hair, her earrings, her glass of eggnog (‘ _Like mother, like daughter,’_ Niles quips proudly), and her hair again.

“Happy first Christmas Eve, Emily,” Niles says from behind her, turning off the camcorder and coming around to sit next to his family by a blazing fire and twinkling Christmas tree lights.

CC hands the baby off to him and gets up, heading toward the TV.

“What are you doing?” Niles asks.

“I thought we could start a new tradition,” she holds up the VHS he gave her that first night of Hanukkah two years ago. “I know she’s just a baby and she won’t get it now but the pretty colors and music will entertain her and I know it’s stupid—”

“No,” Niles interrupts “it’s great. You’re great.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Butler Boy,” she grins as she pops the video into the VCR and snuggles in next to her husband and baby girl on the couch.

She’s right. The colors and upbeat music entertain her daughter for a little while before the gentle rocking from Niles lulls her to sleep.

“Should I bring her upstairs?” her husband asks.

“No, let’s finish the movie,” CC whispers.

She watches as the Grinch bitterly plots to ruin Christmas and then as he steals all the decorations and presents from Whoville. She watches as the town comes together and sings in celebration of Christmas even after left with nothing. She watches as the Grinch’s heart grows three times its size and he saves Christmas, befriending every Who down in Whoville.

She glances over at her family: Niles and Emily both asleep, snoring quietly. She snuggles even closer to Niles, and on instinct he wraps his arm even tighter around her.

CC swears she feels her own heart grow three sizes.

 

**The End! Merry Christmas, everyone!**


End file.
